tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32736212129432999312023-11-15T05:34:57.970-08:00Keep Falling UpThe positive side effects of negative experiences.Jodi Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01985819487013708094noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3273621212943299931.post-8738852751062821662011-06-23T14:42:00.000-07:002011-06-23T22:15:48.317-07:00When I Grow UpI was born in 1979.<br />
<br />
And thats not a big deal, unless you tell my kids, who say all sorts of great stuff like:<br />
<br />
"NINETEEN-SEVENTY-NINE!!! NO WAY!!"<br />
<br />
"Did you guys have TV?"<br />
<br />
Yes<br />
<br />
"Did you guys have a computer?"<br />
<br />
No<br />
<br />
"Did you have internet?"<br />
<br />
No. That came out when I was in college.<br />
<br />
Silence.<br />
<br />
And then I feel it.<br />
<br />
I'm OLD.<br />
<br />
I've grown up. <br />
<br />
And it made me think about when I was their age. I use to think :<br />
<br />
"When I grow up...."<br />
<br />
*I'm going to be a teacher<br />
*I'll be a great mom ( and eat cookie dough all day while my kids go to school)<br />
*My kids will be perfect because I will be perfect<br />
*I will have a hot body ( not the awkward one I had at 10)<br />
*I will meet the man of my dreams on a cruise ship. I will be wearing my pink fluffy dress ( It never occurred to me that it wouldn't fit when I grew up) . He will do something that makes me mad. I will stand out on the balcony over looking the ocean. He will come to me, apologize, and ask me to marry him. I will forgive him ( because I am AWESOME) and We will live happily ever after.<br />
<br />
And then I grew up.<br />
<br />
I never became a teacher<br />
My kids are normal<br />
My body is still awkward <br />
I've never been on a cruise<br />
<br />
The only goal I accomplished was that I DO eat cookie dough whenever I feel like it. ( Morning or Night) <br />
<br />
And you would think that I'd learn.<br />
<br />
And yet, at 31, I still tell myself...<br />
<br />
"When I grow up MORE..like really old, then ..."<br />
<br />
I'll have healthier boundaries<br />
I won't be so bossy<br />
I'll get in shape<br />
I'll live my dreams<br />
I'll will be fearless<br />
I'll go on a cruise (yes, some dreams never die)<br />
<br />
But today, I realize things change, life has tough obstacles, and I'm stubborn. And if I felt like being truly morbid- which I do- the truth is, I could die at any time.<br />
<br />
And if the past is a reflection of my future, 20 years from now, I will still be :<br />
<br />
*Afraid to set boundaries<br />
*Bossing people around when I shouldn't<br />
*Physically out of shape<br />
*Afraid to live my dreams<br />
*Scared of the unknown<br />
*Listening to my friends while they talk about their amazing cruise.<br />
<br />
And the only plus side is, I will probably have the BEST cookie dough recipe in town.<br />
<br />
So, for today:<br />
<br />
I will mess up on boundaries, and say I'm sorry<br />
I will be bossy, but not as bossy as I was yesterday<br />
I'll walk around the block<br />
I will pray about my dreams and let God guide me<br />
I will do one thing that scares me, even if it's small<br />
I will put $20 away each month for a cruise<br />
<br />
And I will be grateful that I have finally realized that GROWING UP is overrated.Jodi Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01985819487013708094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3273621212943299931.post-41951097977191585622011-06-16T11:39:00.000-07:002011-06-23T22:16:05.785-07:00Sometimes we are THAT coupleI have a confession. It will taint your view of me, if you had one, forever. I like to watch people, especially when I am on a date with my husband. But wait, it gets worse.<br />
<br />
Then I like to make up stories about them too.<br />
<br />
For instance, if I'm at Walmart on a date with my hubby- ( yes, my husband and I tend to call a trip to the grocery store "date night") and a husband and wife are shopping together, and he is being all sweet and she is looking at him like he's a JERK, I will quickly go to the next isle- turn to Isaac and began explaining everything.<br />
<br />
"Did you see the couple on the cereal isle?"<br />
<br />
He doesn't even look up.... he just pretends to understand<br />
<br />
"Ummm yea, that lady and that guy right?"<br />
<br />
Good enough.<br />
<br />
"Yes. They were fighting, and he was acting all sweet, but you know what I think?"<br />
<br />
Silence- cause I'm not really asking..<br />
<br />
" I think he was a big time jerk, and instead of changing, he's just kissing up. But she has probably seen that a few times. But you know what's sad about all of that?"<br />
<br />
"Hmmm..." he begins- he is about to say something awful and truthful like,<br />
<br />
"Yeah, they are a lot like us"<br />
<br />
But I'm in denial and I'm trying to stroke my ego.<br />
<br />
"Well, what's awful and sad about it is that it MAKES HER look like the bad guy, when he is actually the REAL JERK!"<br />
<br />
OH man. I am so glad I'm not them.<br />
<br />
At least not this second.<br />
<br />
By now my husband just nods. Laughs. The end. I feel better.<br />
<br />
That is until, it's my turn to be "THAT" couple, and I am fully aware of it.<br />
<br />
And it all started at the movie theater. We went to a $2 movie with another couple. The movie was very clean, which is good, and very stupid- which is funny.<br />
<br />
So we left the theater laughing hysterically at all the dumb parts that were suppose to be serious.<br />
<br />
Then we walk out to the parking lot, and I notice a streak down the backside of my husbands pants.<br />
<br />
"What is THAT?"<br />
<br />
He had sat on some nasty candy that didn't look like candy.<br />
<br />
We started laughing so hard that all four of us started crying. And then it hit. I stopped.<br />
<br />
"I feel super tired..." I said. And Boom! Narcolepsy. I was asleep, in the parking lot. Head down, standing up.<br />
But they kept laughing about the pants, and the movie. And I can hear them. The more I hear, the more I laugh inside, the deeper my narcolepsy goes. Now, I am completely bent over, my arms are hanging, and my body is sound asleep.<br />
<br />
My husband bends over to help me. He is still laughing with everyone else. I can hear people stopping and looking at us. And the thought crosses my mind, "We are THAT couple."<br />
<br />
I can hear the story now. <br />
<br />
A couple is walking through the parking lot to the movie theater.<br />
<br />
The wife turns to her husband.<br />
<br />
"Oh my gosh! Did you see THAT couple?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, the one that's falling over and drunk?"<br />
<br />
"Yes! Do you think they got drunk before or after the movie?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know. But they must be pretty wasted. She's all slumped over. And then her husband is just standing there laughing, BUT he's so wasted that he crapped his pants, and he doesn't' even know it!"<br />
<br />
Then his wife will look at him and say, "We have our problems, but I am so glad we are not THAT couple. I just hope they don't have kids."<br />
<br />
And then they will go on their merry little way with their impressions and stories.<br />
<br />
And little do they know how impossible it would be to guess the real story.<br />
<br />
But from this experience, I have learned one absolute truth.......<br />
<br />
God has an incredible sense of humor. :)Jodi Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01985819487013708094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3273621212943299931.post-69951028640937134432011-06-10T07:55:00.000-07:002011-06-10T15:48:41.026-07:00I Have Dairy Cow Syndrome<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">In our society as we have shifted to a more sophisticated way of life, we suppose that somehow we have left behind the horse, the mules, and dairy cows to become more advanced, and savvy. But I wonder if we have really left the animals behind, or have simply viewed ourselves as them, in some morbid sort of away. If you don't follow, then let me lead.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I have dairy cow syndrome.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You maybe thinking...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"I'm sorry ..is that a rash?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Shouldn't you keep that to yourself?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Did our kids play together recently...ummm... I hope not!"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Or maybe you wonder-</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> "What the Heck is that?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It's simple. You probably have it too.. but not as bad as I did. If so, I feel sorry for you. I hope you can blog and heal as I have.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Dairy Cow syndrome is when we esteem ourselves like we would a good dairy cow. It happens when a majority of our feelings of self worth come from what we produce, provide, accomplish.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">When I think of a good dairy cow, I think "A good dairy cow will...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* Produce</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* Be there from sun up to sun down</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* Provide for others</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It can show up in our career, in our children, in our marriage.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And over time, dairy cow syndrome becomes so ingrained in us, that we began to believe that our achievements define our worth.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And most of us never know we have it, until we can't live it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I had dairy cow syndrome real bad-</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* I worked from sun up to sun down ( sometimes 12 hour days)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* I produced more material and work for my business to keep me busy for weeks</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* I provided 50% of our income</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I was the queen of dairy cow syndrome. And my dairy cow mentality was going to carry me through life. One day, I would be the millionaire. The best producing, most efficient, most talented, riches dairy cow syndrome afflicted women in town.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Produce Produce Produce, Provide, Provide, Provide, dairy cow, dairy cow, dairy cow.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Little did I know that my thinking was off base. Deep down I believed that if everything I worked for went away, I would be okay. It's only a game. And if I lost, no biggie! I would just get back up and play again.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That was until I lost. And I couldn't get back up.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">When cataplexy struck, and it did strike- over night I was paralyzed, limp, in bed, unable to move.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">" If I was cow, they'd shoot me" I told my husband.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">He laughed.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Good thing I'm not a cow.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But the days moved on, and no one tried to shoot me.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">In fact, I was amazed at how many people took time to serve me.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I remember the widow who came over to bring me homemade bread. I sat on my couch and asked her how she was. She poured out her heart. I felt her pain. I had known her for many years, and for the first time- in a long time-<br />
<br />
<br />
I listened.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">When the local restaurant owner came to my house once a week to bring my family their favorite meal, ( which we could no longer afford to buy ourselves), he sat and talked about his life, his business, his dreams and how its struggling. And for the first time, in a long time, I didn't have meetings to attend, phone calls to make, chores to do around my house. I sat there, limp.<br />
<br />
<br />
And I listened.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And perhaps the best blessing was that my kids came accustom to visiting me in my bed everyday after school. And while they chatted,laughed, and talked about their day, I laid there. I would go in and out of paralysis, but they didn't care. They had so much to say. And for the first time, in a very long time, I didn't have any excuses, cells phones, meeting, urgent computer work to distract me.<br />
<br />
<br />
So I listened.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then I realized, perhaps this is the one thing that might help me stop feeling guilty about not being able to produce, produce, produce, provide, provide, provide, provide, do, do, do.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I can listen.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It's a gift I rarely used in the past, and quite frankly, I didn't know I was missing it so badly.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And while I sat and did nothing, I watched miracles pass through my life.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And the more I listened, the more gratitude I felt.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But it wasn't always easy. In fact, most of the time, it was really hard. I felt grateful to be learning how to listen, but I wanted more. I wanted to be able to really contribute,really give back, really help other people, really produce an income. Deep down, I still had dairy cow syndrome.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then one night, after Isaac had put the kids to sleep and cleaned the house, he laid down next me, where I had been laying all day.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I inched towards him and laid my head on his chest. Tears began falling down my cheeks.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Isaac, I am so scared" I whispered. " What if I'm always like THIS?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Tired but full of hope he replied, "God has a plan for us Jodi. I know it."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> Then I closed my eyes, began to pray, and I asked God what His plan was for me-</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> And for the first time, in a really, really long time, I listened.</div>Jodi Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01985819487013708094noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3273621212943299931.post-14645942865519662782011-06-08T14:50:00.001-07:002011-06-08T14:50:46.483-07:00Everyones Got "IT"<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I've been gone for while. I quit blogging. I quit a lot of things. But I have a good reason. And yes, it has funny elements to it, because most things do, you just have to find IT. So here IT goes.....</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My sweet hubby and the kids were all sitting in church. I was the last to join them. I sat down next to my husband and began whispering about plans after church.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then "IT" hit. At the time, I didn't know what "IT" was but I did know this."IT" would cause me to go completely paralyzed. "IT" looked like I had a blood sugar problem- which I didn't -and "IT" had only happened 2-3 times in the past month, and "IT" was happening at church, in front of everyone. And "IT" was about to become a really awkward and life changing experience.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I looked at my hubby and said. "IT is happening again."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Trying to not cause a scene, my hubby whispered, "IT will be okay."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My head went down into my lap and though my eyes were closed, tears fell all over my cute pencil skirt. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My hubby took my limp head and propped it up on his shoulder.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now the Tears were covering his blue dress shirt.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">He managed to pass the sacrament to the kids with one hand, while propping up my head with the other.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And though "acting natural" was his main goal, "IT" had never lasted this long in the past, and "IT" was not ending.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"I'm going to pick you up" he whispered in my ear.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The ironic thing is that when "IT" happens, I can hear everything. I never loose consciousness, but I can't respond. My mind began to race. My knight and shining armor was about to drop his sweet little princess flat on her butt. How sad.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But I couldn't move, I couldn't respond.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"I'm going to have 2 other guys help me"- he whispered.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Nice. I can hear them talking to their wives later, "You know Sister Evans is much heavier than she looks...."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And like a dead horse, they picked me up.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Up my legs went in the air with with my red boots dangling. UP my bra went towards my chin.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And all I could think was, 'Im so glad I can't see what I look like."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then the men laid me down in a room off to the side. Immediately other specialist, Dr.'s and Nurses came to help. I didn't know what was happening which made IT even worse. After 10 minutes of shaking, and being unable to respond, IT calmed down and I began to regain consciousness.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I slowly opened my eyes and saw all the people trying to help me.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Holy Sh---!" I whispered, and then "Sorry" in the next breath.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then IT hit again, and all I could think is, "I might be dying and those were my last words!" NICE.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As I was laying there, bra gently edging towards my chin, I was hoping that "IT" was a temporary problem.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">2 weeks later "IT" got a name. Cataplexy and Narcolepsy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And through my experience over the last year and a half, I have learned that everyone has an "IT". IT just has a different name for each person. Sometimes we can see IT, but most of us hide "IT" pretty well. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And "IT" has a lot of baggage. Because "IT" took a lot of things from me, such as:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">*IT stole my independence</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT drained my savings</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT caused me to loose my home</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT paralyzed me 20 to 30 times a day</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT took away all my superficial vanities</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT requires a lot of attention</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But here is the beauty of all of our "IT's". For everything IT takes away, IT always give more back. And it's ironic how that happens. But even as I write this post, I struggled to find what IT has taken, even though I see "IT's" losses everyday, and I have cried countless times over IT. IT gives so abundantly, that IT is tough to ignore.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT forced me to slow down and listen to my children ( when I am paralyzed I can hear but I can't talk :))</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT forced me to stop being a workaholic</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT stirred up a strong sense of gratitude for everything I ever had and now have- including my health.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT took away my superficial vanities. ( NO matter how cute I think I am, I can land on my butt any minute)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">* IT forces me to take life one day at a time, rely on God, and let go of expectations.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now with treatment, IT shows up 3 times a day instead of 20-30. But since IT will never go away, IT allows me to keep learning. And IT has become a beautiful gift with really ugly packaging.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So I hope that whatever IT you might be struggling with, you can see the beauty, the perks, and how brave you are to deal with the IT in your life. And never think you are alone.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Everyone has IT.</div>Jodi Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01985819487013708094noreply@blogger.com3